Jog Away With My Heart
by Thricex3
Summary: Extremely AU. One glance, that was all it took. She had to see her again. Horrid with summaries. Forgive me, Fandom, for I have committed a fanfiction sin.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is very AU. Fair warning. Another note at the end.**

Quinn drove, on and on, the highway blurring into a repetitive image in front, underneath, and behind her little car. Nothing special, nothing unusual and nothing different than the average teenager's car – it blended in with all of the other cars headed to wherever they were headed. That was her favorite thing about it all. She could blend. At school and at home, she was that girl. She was the girl that stood out because of her almost too perfect features. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, porcelain skin, dainty nose, "perfect" figure, and a smile that could make the devil lighten up – she was perfect. She was everything that everyone wanted to be. And it brought her somewhat unwanted attention. It wasn't that she didn't like being appreciated. Quinn did. But, after a little bit, having all eyes on her got tiring. She wanted to be able to throw her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, wear her favorite pair of stained sweatpants, and wake up and not have to immediately put herself together. There was no slack given, even at home. Her parents expected perfection. And her parents weren't people you fought.

So, she drove. She drove to think, to blend, to get away from expectations and assumptions. But mostly, Quinn drove for the feeling. She drove for that feeling of freedom. The wind in her hair, radio playing the songs her parents would never approve of, and her sunglasses hiding those hypnotic eyes from the world. She didn't need a place to go. She didn't need a map. And she didn't need anyone with her. All she needed was gas, the radio, and a road. The road could be bumpy, hilly, slippery, or even crowded. None of it mattered as long as she was in her car and going somewhere.

Quinn was driving the day she saw her for the first time. It was a back road, pretty much empty with lots of twists and turns in it. It wasn't a road you would expect a runner on. Cars drove fast on it and there wasn't that much time to get out of their way. There weren't very many houses around and, the ones that were there were spread out and isolated. So when Quinn turned a corner and saw a tank top and shorts running down the road, she automatically raised an eyebrow and switched lanes, not seeing anyone else around and wanting to give the runner plenty of room. She sped up a little, passed her by a few feet, and switched back into her original lane before glancing in the mirror and promptly having her breath taken away.

Brown eyes, brown hair pulled into a ponytail, lightly tanned skin. A prominent nose over lips slightly parted, mid-pant. She had both earphones in and Quinn wondered if she could hear anything. Her eyes were focused on the road in front of her. She didn't notice Quinn ogling her in the rearview mirror. Which was a good thing because Quinn didn't know if she'd be able to look away if she were caught. Rarely had she ever ran into someone that actually looked good exercising. Santana always looked decent but not even she looked this good.

Not only did she look good. She ran with good form. Quinn was an athlete. A Cheerio and retired gymnast, she knew exercise. Jogging and sprinting were regular cardio exercises. Over the years, she had been trained well and knew how to efficiently run. So did this girl. Her hands were lightly fisted, her head straight, her posture excellent. She even mastered the sinfully easy but often evasive way of rolling from heel to toe to give more momentum. This girl was practicing amazing form. And Quinn noticed, despite the other parts of this mystery girl that were demanding her attention. Like the sweat making her shirt cling to her right around where it overlapped the waistband of her shorts.

And then the eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. There was no denying that the girl caught her staring. Quinn jerked her eyes away, her entire body jerking a little, causing the car to swerve a little. Saying words that would make her mother's mouth drop, Quinn regained control and sped up. She had never been so embarrassed. Her mind ran, still stuck in the moment those eyes came to meet hers. They were like melted chocolate, freshly lacquered wood, or Snooki's skin. That's how ridiculously brown they were. And so…warm. Despite the circumstances, her eyes were soft and warm unlike most people's when they catch someone staring at them. Especially a stranger. Quinn took an abrupt left turn, pulling back onto a main rood and driving straight into a diner's parking lot. She made sure she parked on the far side, where hopefully no one from the road could see her.

Leaving the car running for the air conditioner, Quinn picked up her phone and dialed Santana's number. It rang for what seemed like ages before being answered by a rather annoyed Santana.

"What the hell do you want, Barbie? I'm trying to get my mack on."

"People still say 'mack'? Thanks for opening my eyes to that one. Who's your victim of the evening?" Quinn retorted, enjoying their familiar banter. She liked this. Most people would look at Santana and quiver if she ever said anything to them. Especially things like what she said to Quinn. Quinn, though, loved it. Santana hadn't been drawn to her because of her looks. She had been drawn to her because of her power and the way she let all of Santana's harsh words roll off her back like water.

"Doesn't concern you, now does it, Fabray?" Santana asked, and Quinn knew that she was rolling her eyes, typical Lopez smirk in place. She still remembered when Santana had come on to her that one time. They had been drunk and Santana, always an explorer, had climbed on top of Quinn and started showing Quinn just how she got all those boys. Of course, Quinn was a good girl. She had pushed Santana down and endured the harsh cursing that followed. Later that night, Quinn had noticed her outside with a girl pushed up against a tree. It had instantly become a joke between the two that Quinn was just too good for Santana's lesbian charms. "Anyway, what do you want? And make it quick. There are other matters demanding my," There was a pause and Quinn quirked an eyebrow, trying to drown out the girl's voice in the background, rambling to Santana about her cat, "undivided attention. You have five minutes. Starting now."

"Santana…"

"Four minutes, forty-five seconds."

"Oh, please! That was so not fifteen seconds," She said, rolling her eyes when Santana started making a ticking noise. "Okay, stop, Ms. Metronome. I saw this girl."

"If you're finally coming out of the closet, this is one shitty way to do it."

Quinn hesitated. She had always been open. Well, as long as her parents never found out. She had always been open to the possibilities. Especially when Santana started fooling around, it had opened her eyes and made her wonder. But she didn't think of herself as gay. She wasn't gay. And she definitely wasn't gay for some stranger that she had just met. Santana interrupted her thoughts by speaking again.

"Quinn? If you are coming out of the closet, this is so not the worst way to go about it. I mean, you could come out in a lumberjack outfit or something. Now, _that _would be a shitty way to do it." Santana's voice had switched from teasing to moderately concerned incredibly fast. Quinn knew that it was probably just because of her own issues when it came to sexuality (issues that no one knew about except Quinn. And even she didn't know that much) but she also knew that Santana actually cared about her, despite her cold exterior.

"No, S, I'm not coming out. It was just…weird. She was just running along – you know that road by the Sonic? Really curvy and hilly? Yeah, that's where she was running. – and, I don't know, I kind of think I want to…befriend her or something." _Yeah, or something. _Quinn's mind was back to thinking how long she spent staring at her in the rearview mirror.

"And you called me because…?" Santana was right back to not caring in the slightest.

"I was looking at her, in the rearview mirror and she caught me."

"Well, what were you doing, Q? Staring? Drooling?" Quinn hesitated just a moment and it was enough for Santana to gasp and speak again. "You're fucking kidding me! You were so staring at this girl! Give me details."

"So I stared a little bit. It wasn't like I was looking at her like I was Puck and she was on the cover of Playboy." Quinn brought her head down to rest on the steering wheel, starting to reevaluate her decision to call Santana.

"But she caught you."

"Yes, she caught me."

"And you reacted by?"

"Averting my eyes and speeding up."

"And then you…?"

"Drove away. Hid behind the little diner. The one with the _amazing _bacon sandwiches."

"And…?"

"Called you, regretted calling you."

"And her eyes looked like?"

"Brown. Warm. Deep. Like chocolate pudding. Made it hard to look away. I felt like I could swim in them. It felt like she could see through me. It was…insane."

"Quinn, you have a girl crush." Santana's voice was smug and Quinn just knew she was wearing her smirk proudly, probably while whatever girl she had with her nodded her head and smiled encouraging. They were all robots, really. Sometimes she wondered how Santana could go for the same thing over and over again and not want some type of individuality.

"I do not!"

"I'm sorry, but 'I felt like I could swim in them. It felt like she could see through me. It was…insane'. You have a girl crush about as big as Ellen's on Portia. My friend here agrees." Quinn listened hard to the girl in the background and thought she heard something about how Prince Quinn found her Princess.

"Santana! God, why did I call you?"

"Hell if I know. Probably because I'm your only friend?"

"I have friends besides you."

"None that you would talk to about this." Quinn knew that Santana was right so she stayed quiet, letting the silent confirmation have its moment.

When she spoke again, it was only after deciding that Santana should get to enjoy whatever company she had with her. "Thanks for listening, Lara. I'll let you go spend time with your other important matters."

"No problem, Hillary. I'll see you tomorrow." Santana hung up and Quinn dropped the phone and her hand to rest on her lap, keeping her head on the steering wheel.

Reality was suddenly very unappealing. Especially with her reality, current or otherwise, didn't feature the runner. Quinn knew she needed to get home before her mother got worried and decided to call, or worse – come looking for her. It was rare that her mother reached that point but Judy Fabray did have her moments. Still, despite knowing that she needed to go, she sat there. She'd get home soon. She just didn't want to leave yet. What if the unnamed girl was running by? What if Quinn ran up on her again?

Quinn's mind ran through the possibilities, at first dwelling on the negative outcomes of each possibility. And then, her optimism seeped through and she started coming up with positive possibilities. She could talk to her. She could offer her a ride. The mystery girl could offer her a smile or, if they were talking, a laugh. They could exchange phone numbers. Become best friends. Stick together through thick and thin. Quinn could introduce her to Santana. Eventually, the runner could be induced into their group. She could be the Bryce part of Quinn and Santana's Lara Croft nicknames.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the window and Quinn jerked up, hitting her head on the roof. Mumbling profanities and holding her head, she rolled down her window and smiled at the man not much older than she was bent over to talk to her. "Ma'am, are you okay? You've been sitting here for quite awhile. My manager sent me out to make sure that you don't want anything." He had a country accent and a shock of blonde hair that he swept out of his way with every head toss. She looked at his nametag, examining it as closely as possible until she was sure of the name printed there. She hated embarrassing herself and tiny font on nametags was the main cause of most of her embarrassing moments.

"Sorry, Sam, I just got a little shaken up. Nearly hit a dog on that road back there." She started digging through her purse until she found her wallet. Opening it and digging through it, she made sure she had enough money before turning off the car and returning her attention to the employee. "I'll grab something to eat since I've been taking up a good portion of your parking lot for the last bit." Quinn waited for him to back up before opening the car door and stepping out. She ran a hand along the back of her sundress, making sure it wasn't showing anything it shouldn't be. Satisfied, she shut the door behind her and started walking towards the diner.

"You don't really have to buy anything. We just thought we had to make sure you were okay. You had us scared in there, Blondie."

"I know I don't. But I'm starved, this place has great food, and I'm flattered that you guys would even take the time to be concerned about the girl loitering in your parking lot. It means a lot. And I'm sorry for scaring all of you. I really didn't mean to." She paused a moment, before deciding that she liked Sam. "My name's Quinn, by the way."

Sam shrugged. "It happens. Have whatever you want and I will personally prepare it. But it's nice to you meet you, Quinn."

"Same," She said, smiling and nodding at him before dropping the introductory talk and moving on. "Hm…but what if you don't cook that well?"

"Full refund _and _I'll take you to a restaurant of your choosing."

"Surely you don't mean like a date? Sam, we just met!"

"But after fixing your food and standing by as you eat it, we'll have known each other for at least thirty to forty-five minutes. I think that's plenty of time, don't you?"

Quinn smiled, ducking her head. He was confident and she liked it. It gave her mind an opportunity to stray from the runner. While mystery girl was still jogging her way through her mind, Sam gave at least a small window of peace. Meeting his eyes, Quinn nodded. "I suppose so."

"That's what I thought." The laughter worked its way from his mouth – which was oddly large and reminded her of Angelina Jolie – to his eyes and she realized just how infectious his laughter could be. "What are you wanting to eat?"

She debated between eating what a "lady" should and eating what she wanted for a minute before deciding that if she ever needed an extra-large Bacon Burger with extra bacon, now was the time. "The biggest Bacon Burger on the menu. Heavy on the bacon. Extremely heavy on the bacon. Please."

Sam eyed her up and down for a minute before cracking up. "You're serious?" When Quinn nodded, Sam's eyebrow raised and he nodded. "Okay, then. I'm getting on it now. Go ahead and get a drink, a seat, anything else you need."

As Sam walked away, Quinn stopped and looked around the diner. It was beautifully decorated. The tables in the center were small and square-shaped, but arranged so that they looked like diamonds. The tables around the walls were booths, with large rectangular tables and what seemed to be extremely comfortable seats. With her back to the counter and kitchen, the soda machine was to her right and seemed to have largely Pepsi products. She had no objections, of course. She was planning on splurging and what could be better to splurge on than Mountain Dew and the biggest Bacon Burger in Ohio?

She headed to the soda machine, grabbing a plastic cup off the dispenser set up beside it. Filling it with as much ice as would fit and then filling it up with Mountain Dew, she attached the lid and grabbed a straw. And then there was the oh so fun part of finding a seat. She had always hated finding a seat. Ever since middle school, she had hated having to figure out where she was to seat. What view was best, what area smelled the least, and who would be the best to eat around. The diner wasn't overly packed but there were too many people for her to not have to sit near someone. There was the family of five over by the far window. A screaming baby, messy toddler, texting preteen, silent father, and a mother on the verge of tears didn't seem like the best environment for her and her splurging session. An old man with messy hair and crusty eyes sat in the middle of the diner, eating at an obnoxiously slow pace as if the world were on pause was a possibility, at least. In a booth at the far back sat a teenage couple who had no idea of personal space. Quinn didn't give any second thought to what they may or may not be doing under the cover of the booth's high back. And then, closest to her, a mother sat with what Quinn believed to be her toddler who seemed to find the salt shaker highly amusing. The younger of the two giggled and shook the salt shaker, sending salt flying. The older laughed; gently taking the salt shaker out of her hand and setting it back down. They were the ones. If Quinn had to sit near anyone, she'd like it to be the good mother and the giggly toddler.

Averting her eyes to look right in front of her so she wouldn't be caught staring for the second time of the day, she walked towards the booth behind them, setting her drink down and keeping her eyes open for Sam. She could smell the bacon and her stomach started turning almost instantly. She was hungrier than she had thought. She looked down and idly traced her name on the table with her finger. She wasn't quite sure why she did this when she was bored. It was just something she had done since she was younger. It had always amused her and kept her from being so dreadfully bored that she slipped into her overactive imagination.

"Momma!" Quinn peeked out from underneath her blonde hair at the toddler's voice, watching as the girl pointed towards her. It always made her nervous when people pointed at her, even young kids. "What's her name? Can I ask her?" And with that, the nervousness faded and she smiled down at the table, wondering how the mother would respond.

"I don't know, baby. Maybe she's a spy, like in the Men in Black movies. Then we can't know her name. We might mess up her plans to save the world. Or, worse, she'll zap us with her memory stick." Whatever Quinn had been expecting, it most definitely wasn't that. She laughed out loud, thankful that Sam hadn't brought her food to her yet.

The little girl shot her mother a look and shook her head. "Mom, they were secret agents. _Not _spies. And she doesn't look like a secret agent."

"Well, if she did, wouldn't that kind of defeat the purpose of a _secret _agent? You're not supposed to be able to tell that they're secret agents!" The mother said, and Quinn noticed her peek over her shoulder to look at her.

"Well, let her zap my memory," The little girl replied, stuttering over the word 'memory'. "I wanna know her name."

Quinn finally looked up and met the girl's eyes with an encouraging smile. She noted the mother's slight smile as she turned back to her daughter, letting Quinn slip from her line of vision. She took her daughter's hand and nodded. "I understand. If she zaps you, I'll help you remember. Go on, little brave one." Her mock seriousness made Quinn cover her mouth to stop a giggle as the little girl nodded seriously and slid out of the booth. She made her way over to Quinn and put her hands on the edge of the table for support. If Quinn looked closely, she could see her shaking. Apparently she wasn't as confident that Quinn wasn't a secret agent as she seemed.

"'Scuse me, what's your name? A-and if you're a woman in black, please don't zap me." She muttered, her voice coming out shaky and scared. Quinn smiled at her and shook her head.

"I'm not a woman in black. Though, that would be cool, wouldn't it?" She asked, encouraged when the little girl nodded her head. "My name's Quinn. What's yours?"

Quinn glanced at the mother, then, smiling when she saw how amused she seemed. She returned her gaze to the little girl and smiled when she saw she was looking at her mother, as well. Quinn figured she was probably asking permission to give a stranger her name as Quinn had done similar things when she was little. At what Quinn assumed to be her mother's nod, the little girl looked back to her and smiled. "Stacy."

"Stacy, huh? That's a beautiful name!" Quinn said, taking one of her hands and shaking it gently. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Stacy." Stacy giggled and blushed a little, shaking Quinn's hand back before running over to her mother and whispering in her ear. The mother looked over at Quinn before returning her full attention to her daughter. A nod later, Stacy was standing in front of Quinn once again. "Can – May I sit with you?" Quinn met Stacy's mom's eyes questioningly. At her shrug, Quinn nodded.

"Would you like your own side?" Quinn offered. When Stacy shook her head, Quinn scooted over, making room for her to sit beside her. "Good?"

"Good!" Stacy chirped and started amusing herself by copying Quinn's earlier actions and tracing whatever images were running through her mind on the table. Watching her for a moment, Quinn looked over to the mother and smiled. "Hi, I'm Quinn." She said, starting to reach out her arm before realizing that there was no way they'd be able to comfortably shake hands. She settled for a smile, instead.

"Nice to meet you. My name's Mary. I hope Stacy doesn't bother you too much. She can be a little silly sometimes."

"Well, that's good. So can I," Quinn replied, smiling and looking down at Stacy before her attention was drawn to possibly the biggest burger she had ever seen in her life. It was huge and she wondered, momentarily, if it would even fit in her mouth. Her eyes roamed from the plate up to the waiter and she smiled at him, making grabby hands for the plate as he slid in across from her.

"You're awfully hungry," He commented as she took the plate from his hand and sized up the burger. It would do, though it didn't seem as big up close. Inwardly giggling at the dirty double meaning under her words, she jerked her head back up at his voice. "You got a stalker while I was gone?"

"Oh, uh," She swallowed the unattractively large bite in her mouth before shaking her head. "Not a stalker, a fellow future woman in black. We're going to protect the world from aliens and whatnot, aren't we, Stacy?" Stacy nodded, making Quinn smile and Sam laugh.

"Well, sis, you finally found someone to help you on that mission of yours."

Quinn lifted an eyebrow and angled her body away from them both, eyeing them. "Wait. She's your…"

"Sister? Yeah. Pretty great one, if you ask me. She gets rid of the aliens underneath my bed."

Sam shot his sister a wink while Quinn looked from blonde to blonde. "Huh. That's a…coincidence." She noted Sam's confusion before returning to her meal. A bite or two later, no one had spoken and Quinn decided to explain her statement. "I mean, I weighed my options very heavily before taking my seat. I picked this seat after deciding that this was my best bet. And, here's the coincidence part, it just happens to be the seat behind your sister and…mother?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm Sammy's mom."

Sam rolled his eyes at his mom, turning back to Quinn and smiling. "You weigh your options before picking where you're going to sit while your Godzilla burger? That's weird, Quinn."

Quinn looked around the room before returning to Sam with one eyebrow quirked up. "Oh? Look around here, Sam. Start over there with the Brady Bunch," She lowered her voice and gestured with her head, not wanting to appear rude. Her eyes stayed on Sam as he looked away.

"There's five, not eight."

"Yeah, well, they have time to expand," Quinn dismissed his comment, and glanced over at the family quickly to see what trouble they were up to. The baby was still screaming, now through a pacifier, while the toddler applied ketchup to his younger sibling's face. The others all had reasons for not noticing what the younger children were doing. Mother and father were busying themselves with taking turns scolding the preteen. Not that she was all that concerned. With a flip of her hair, and a sigh that Quinn swore she could hear from across the room. The father, finally giving up, noticed the younger children and slapped his wife's hand to get her attention. Quinn had grown decent at reading lips in elementary school when she and Santana mouthed words to each other from across the rows of people between them. The skill had stuck and she tried not to giggle at the stream of profanities and threats that slipped out the mother's face in that moment. Forcing her eyes to leave the family and focus back on Sam, she blushed when she saw his eyes were already on her.

"You like watching people," He observed, smiling a little. "Tell me, Mighty Watcher, did you have a point in making me look over at the Family Circus?"

"One too many," She replied, remembering his comment from earlier. "Would you sit with them? Would you risk your clean blonde hair getting spattered with ketchup just so you can have the wondrous view that those windows provide? Would you make your eyes listen to the constant bickering and _tap-tap _of that cell phone?"

"Well, yeah! I love ketchup in my hair." Sam replied and Quinn rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"Now look at the anorexic Santa Claus."

"You are the kindest person I've ever met."

"I try," She said, growing distracted by the next people to walk in. Two girls, hand in hand, laughing as if they were returning from a comedy act. Short, red hair cut in a pixie cut was worn by a tall girl with pale skin and bold freckles. Shoulder-length (and delightfully messy) brown hair was worn by the shorter girl with slightly tanned skin and possibly the most brilliant eyes Quinn had ever seen. As she watched, the shorter girl pulled on the other girl's hand, making the redhead bend down and kiss her. It wasn't long, it wasn't inappropriate. Quinn had seen worse kisses at church events. Even so, the elderly man looked up just as their lips were meeting and made one of the most repulsed faces Quinn had ever seen. But the girls didn't notice. They giggled, pressing their foreheads together and kissing once more before walking up to the counter to place their order. The man was still scowling and Quinn had to resist the urge to leave her seat and have a lively discussion with him. She knew it would be useless, though. Most homophobes were deaf to anyone who would dare bring up a flaw in their great beliefs. Still, it was tempting, probably because she knew of Santana's current predicament.

"Quinn? Are you still with us?" Sam asked, placing his hand on top of hers and trying to get her attention. He followed her eyes to the old man and then followed his to the couple at the counter. "Oh. Guess he doesn't approve. He's gonna really hate the future, ain't he?" When Quinn didn't respond or turn to look at him, Sam drew his eyebrows together and glanced at Stacy who was staring up at Quinn in quiet confusion. "Quinn, are you…?" He let the question hang open, feeling oddly embarrassed at even asking the implied question. It definitely got Quinn's attention.

"What?" Her voice lifted and she took a moment to gather herself before continuing. "No. No, no, no. I'm straight. Like, really, really, straight. My mom's been planning my wedding for years, now. The theme's Snow White. I'm just still looking for my prince. I just can't believe he's showing his disgust so…obviously."

Sam cocked his head to the side, doubtful, before mentally shrugging. He didn't know her, he couldn't doubt her. "Yeah. He probably should have ordered some manners instead of that soup."

Quinn laughed, though it didn't match her normal laugh. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home to her heterosexual parents, her heterosexual room (with the exception of that _D.E.B.S. _movie), and her heterosexual Bible. Looking down at her half-eaten burger, she frowned. Her appetite had left her but she didn't want to waste a perfectly good burger. Surely they had to-go containers here. What respectable restaurant didn't? Fingers crossed, she looked back up and met Sam's questioning eyes. Clearly he wasn't buying it. "Um. To-go box, please? Mom should be home now and she'll really freak if I'm not there."

She watched Sam's face go even more confused as he nodded and left her with his sister to go and get her to-go box. Stacy had been shockingly silent during everything and, Quinn noticed when she looked for Mary, Mary had slipped out sometime during it all. Stacy was looking up at her, a finger resting on her chin. Quinn smiled and rested her head on her hand to mock the girl's staring. When Stacy spoke, though, she instantly sobered up.

"Are you like Ellen?"

Quinn was torn between laughing out loud or being completely mortified that a child would even think that she was 'like Ellen'. Children were the most honest of anything that breathes, or Quinn thought so. She looked at Stacy for a good long minute before shaking her head slowly. "No, I don't think so."

Stacy nodded but shrugged. "If you were, that'd be cool. Lesbeans are funny."

Quinn was giggling when Sam returned. He looked from her to Stacy, who was wearing a confused smile on her face. Turning to her brother, she shrugged and returned her gaze to the giggling girl.

"Stacy, what did you do?"

"Nothing, Sammy. I just told her that lesbeans are funny."

And then Sam's laughter was mingling with Quinn's.

She had left the diner with a smile still on her face and kiss on the cheek from Sam. Maybe she had just needed a good laugh to focus. Stacy had definitely provided that. It had calmed her and when she climbed back into her car, she was relaxed and ready to go. Starting the car, her smile only grew when Andrew Belle started singing, thankful for the mix CD she had made the weekend before. For some reason, his voice soothed her and kept her mind focused on whatever task was currently at hand. The current task being getting home, showering, and falling into her bed.

She was home in record time – her love of driving fast getting her home in record time. Her father had called her reckless when she was first learning to drive but she wasn't really. She was cautious, always watching out of other vehicles and pedestrians. She was an excellent driver. No matter what her father chose to believe. She sat in her car long enough for the current song to end before she cut off the engine and got out of her mobile haven. The garage was empty, she noted, going through it instead of using the front door. That would explain the lack of concern.

Taking her shower faster than normal, Quinn avoided thought. She didn't want to think about the jogging girl, the couple in the diner, or Stacy's innocent question. She didn't want to think at all. All she wanted was to smell pretty and go to bed. So that's what she did. In and out of the shower, racing through her nightly ritual, she was in bed within an hour of being home.

But one thing she couldn't rush was the actual falling asleep part of it all. She could turn off the lights, she could close her eyes, she could cuddle her pillow, and she could turn on her iPod to Enya and Barcelona – but she couldn't force the sleep that wouldn't come. The thoughts that she had been avoiding all day were now bombarding her, driving her crazy.

'I love boys. That's it. Guys are…great.' She thought to herself, rationalizing with herself. Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, a thought wormed its way to the surface of her mind. 'But you like her. Her body, anyway.'

She rolled over, lying flat on her back with her eyes focused on the ceiling. She had always been open. But she had never thought of actually putting that openness to the test. Now she was faced with a mesmerizing girl that she couldn't be certain she would ever evens see again. That was the scariest part of it all. How could such a brief glance cause so much chaos inside her? It was just a glance that was quickly turning into an internal debate.

She had to see her again.

**AN: Um, yeah, the end was rushed and the Rachel/Quinn interaction was minimal. If I write another chapter (I intend to), there will be more, I promise. Also, in your opinion(s), should I write solely from Quinn's POV or would you like a few chapters in other character's POV? **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yes, this is shorter. I'm sorry. I had a really hard time writing this. Sorry. **

"Qunnie?" Her mother's head peeked around her door and Quinn tried her hardest not to groan. Her mother knew she hated being called by her childhood nickname. It made her think of Winnie the Pooh, or Twinkies. Her mother also knew that she hated being woke up before noon on a Saturday. Normally, she woke up on her own accord, without any help from her mother or father. Actually, it was normally her cell phone that woke her up. Some idiot football player texting her about a party she wasn't all that excited about or Santana calling her to get a ride. It didn't matter how many times Quinn told her to suck it up and get her license, Santana insisted it was too much work and took too much time. Besides, Quinn driving her around ensured she could apply her mascara on the run.

"I was in the middle of an amazing dream. _Amazing_," She muttered, pushing herself into a sitting position and crossing her arms. "Why couldn't I finish it?" Her voice was a little whiny but she knew her mom was expecting it. Quinn wasn't much of a morning person and it was really rare for her to dream. Or, rare for her to have pleasant dreams. Her dreams were normally nightmares. But she liked it. For some reason she never really took the time to investigate, she loved being scared. There was something about the startled jump, the shivers, and the fear that lasts long after the actual scare has ended.

Judy Fabray stepped in the room, wringing her hands in a way that was undeniably nervous. This brought Quinn fully to her senses. Her mom was rarely nervous. Years of dealing with PTA moms sending her disproving glances across the meeting table because of her youngest daughter's appearance had made her almost unshakable. "Santana's here to see you." Quinn arched an eyebrow and wondered just how much weirder this morning could get. Normally Santana would just come straight up to her room, jump around on her bed, and just annoy the hell out of her until she got up. What was so insanely different about this morning?

She sighed and threw her hair into a ponytail to ease the messy look she was rocking. Santana probably just needed a ride to wherever she was planning on spending her Saturday. That didn't answer the question of why Santana hadn't come up here but she decided not to think about it, to pretend like she hadn't noticed that little detail."You look nervous. Go drink some tea," She muttered as she walked past her mother and out the door, turning down the hall towards the stairs. She took them slowly, her head still spinning from her dream. She hadn't been lying to her mother when she said her dream had been amazing. It had been. It might have been the best dream she had ever had, actually. Of course, her dreams for the past week and a half had been pretty great.

She could still smell coconut (she didn't know why she had chosen coconut, maybe it was just because it was the scent of her favorite conditioner.) She could still feel silky smooth skin moving under her palms. She could still see flashes of warm brown eyes. And she could still hear her name whispered over and over again in that voice that was both familiar and delightfully foreign. She was reliving her dream when she turned the corner into the living room and saw Santana sitting on her couch. Her head was down, arms folded and propped on her knees, and Quinn thought that maybe she was trying to find some portal to hell in the beige carpet. Santana looked up at the sound of her footsteps with a smirk.

"Still sleeping in?" Santana asked, her voice teasing and light. Quinn's lips instantly turned up into a smile, glad to see that nothing was fatally wrong with her friend. She looked at Santana's typically stylish outfit and felt hobo-ish in comparison. Her shorts were raggedy from overuse, her tank top stretched from weight loss and weight gain. She knew Santana had probably been awake for quite awhile

"Still sleeping around?" Quinn was teasing, but the look that crossed Santana's face so quickly Quinn almost missed it made her regret her words. Somehow, someway, that must be connected to whatever Santana had to tell her about. Her eyebrows knitted together and she waited, not so patiently, for Santana to say something. When nothing came, Quinn broke the silence herself. "What's up, San?"

The quiet that followed made Quinn think of church. It made her uncomfortable. In church, when they were praying, someone softly played the piano. Quinn had always wondered why people did it. It didn't make much sense to her. But, now, she understood. With a TV playing somewhere nearby, the background noise was a welcome addition. She didn't consider it a distraction because it actually helped her focus. Without it, she almost felt that the moment would be too intense. Maybe that was why it was never _totally _quiet. There's always some type of noise, no matter how quiet it seems. She was thankful, extremely thankful, for the quiet hum of the TV.

Santana's eyes were focused on her hands and, for a moment at least, Quinn wondered if she had suddenly gone mute. Santana was always quick with words. She could come up with an insult faster than most people could blink. But, suddenly, she was quiet. The thought was quickly rejected when Santana met her eyes and decided to speak. Quinn wasn't sure what was going to come out of her mouth and she caught her breath, hanging on the way Santana opened her mouth, closed it, licked her lips, and tried again. This was the worst kind of suspense. She could think of only one other occurrence where the suspense had been nearly unbearable – taking a pregnancy test her sophomore year. Fortunately, it had been negative. Well, in hindsight, it was fortunate. In that moment, it had been a mixture of emotions. Happiness that she still had a few more teenage years left, that she didn't have to go from daughter and student to mother and student. But then there was a sadness that she hadn't been able to explain at the time. She could explain it now, somewhat anyway. She missed what she had anticipated. She had anticipated a 'positive'. She had anticipated a baby growing in her as she peed on that little stick. And, while she had been dreading the 'positive', she was still anticipating it. And she was let down.

She pulled herself away from her memories, promising herself a moment later. Sometimes she liked to relive those moments. They kept her breathing, moving forward. She needed them to propel her towards her future. Taking a seat beside Santana, she kept her distance. Santana wasn't someone you crowded, especially not in moments like this and especially not with permission. Quinn bit her tongue, fighting the urge to ramble on. Despite her popularity, she still felt a little awkward at times. She always spoke too loud or too often, made faces that weren't the prettiest when caught on camera, and hated picking groups in class. It was a lesson in self-control more than anything. She had to teach herself how to act and had to watch herself to ensure that she didn't fall into her comfortable habits.

"Can we go for a drive?"

Quinn barely caught Santana's words, they were muttered so quietly. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining things to eliminate the silence. But Santana's eyes were on her, waiting. She nodded, fear bubbling up in her stomach. What could possibly be so bad? What could be so impossible that Santana wouldn't even be able to say it? Or, easily say it, anyway. She had never seen Santana struggle so much with words. Running upstairs to grab her purse and keys, she met Santana by her car. She went through the familiar routine of unlocking, getting in, starting it, buckling up, and turning on the radio for background music. Her mirrors never moved, staying where she needed them as no one else was allowed to drive her car. The only one she had ever given that privilege was Finn Hudson, her ex-boyfriend. That had been a terrible mistake. It took her almost four days to get everything back in its original (and ideal) position. She looked over at Santana, waiting for her to provide some kind of destination. After a few moments in silence, she put the car in gear and pulled out of her driveway. So there was no set destination, no decided end point. Maybe Santana would speak before they found themselves lost in some horror movie setting.

Turning up the radio, she started heading along the same route she had been driving for the past week and a half. It wasn't even a conscious thought so much as just habit. It was familiar. And, right now, with her familiar best friend being so totally unfamiliar, she didn't want to have to think about where she was driving. She just wanted to drive until the unusually quiet girl beside her opened her mouth to speak. Quinn didn't like the quiet. When she was younger, it was always the sign for bad news. It rarely ever indicated something good. Santana knew that. Quinn wondered for a moment if Santana was just messing with her. Quinn could flip from concerned to pissed in no time. Santana knew that, too.

"I'm a bitch."

Quinn bit her tongue, curious. Everyone knew Santana was a bitch, including Santana. She had owned up to before, many times before. Why was she treating it like new news now? There had to be more than just that.

"I'm a bitch. I'm a student. I'm a daughter. I'm a friend. I'm a cheerleader. I'm a singer."

Her voice was barely over a whisper and Quinn leaned towards her to make sure she was hearing everything correctly. She slowed to a stop at a red light, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. These things were impossible. The red lights lasted forever, even when there was no one coming; the green lights were short and random; and the yellow lights rarely happened, leaving drivers with no warning when it came to the quick red lights.

She heard Santana take a shaky breath and she waited. This was it, this was what needed to be said, this was the bad news.

"I'm a lesbian."

Quinn didn't say anything at first. She didn't understand why Santana was treating this like it was the hottest thing of the year. Quinn was the first female that Santana had ever come onto. Quinn was the only person that was privy to Santana's nightly, or nearly nightly, escapades. She understood that this was the first time that Santana ever really labeled herself. She had stopped labeling herself as 'straight' her freshman year in high school, after her first Cheerio party. She had never labeled herself as 'gay' either. Well, until now. Now, she had just said the three words that Quinn knew were nearly impossible for her to say. Her hesitation in speaking suddenly didn't seem so bright.

"Santana…"

"Wait," Santana held up a hand and Quinn let her eyes leave the road long enough to settle on it with a disapproving glance. She stayed quiet, though, interested in whatever else Santana was about to say. "I don't want you to think any…different of me, okay? I'm still kick-your-ass Santana. And I'm not letting the razor blades out of my hair just yet."

"What – waiting to get a pixie cut?"

"Hah, funny. Save me the stereotypical lesbian cracks. I'm not getting a pixie cut, I'm not going to deck myself out in rainbow, and I'm not going to go out and buy a plaid wardrobe. The only thing different between this Santana and that, is this Santana is going to fuck other ladies," She hesitated briefly, before smiling and continuing. "Not you, though. You're safe."

"I know. I'm too good for you."

"Please. Sexy Latina outranks Christian Caucasian Cheerleader any day."

"Whatever you say, Santana, we all know the truth." Quinn said as the light turned back to green. She pulled forward, not sure where exactly she was driving to. Neither of them had set a destination so, for now anyway, they were just driving to be driving. And that was okay. In fact, maybe that was best for them. Maybe they would wind up someplace new, somewhere they never would have thought they'd find themselves before, someplace they thought only existed in movies or books or crime shows. Quinn shook the thoughts brought on by that last suggestion away and asked what had been eating away at her all day. "Anyway, what did you say to my mom? She looked really nervous when she came up to tell me you were downstairs."

Santana's lips took on a rosy hue and the corners of her lips turned up slightly, like she was trying not to smile. She ducked her head, as if she were embarrassed and Quinn started to worry. If it was bad enough to embarrass Santana, how worried should she be about her mom? Santana opened her mouth, let out a laugh, and slurred the words together into one incomprehensible word.

"Excuse me?" It was hard enough to drive, figure out what turns to take, and listen to Santana speak. Add translating Lopez-gibberish to that list, and Quinn felt overwhelmed.

"I may have said something about twat cakes and how I love them more than breadsticks and laxatives. Oh, and something about boobs. I'm not really sure."

"Santana!" Quinn gasped, holding the wheel with one hand and using the other to slap Santana's arm. "That's my mom. My devout Christian, moderately homophobic, and just a little bit crazy mom! Are you psychotic?"

"A little. But you love this psycho."

"Right now, I'm not so sure."

* * *

Hours passed and the only stop they made was for gas and drinks. Judy called once and Santana had to answer, blushing fiercely. Judy didn't mention anything Santana had said and neither did Santana, though for whose benefit, Quinn wasn't sure. The conversation was quick, just Judy wondering if Quinn would be home in time for dinner. They still hadn't figured out their destination and, honestly, Quinn was still basking in the fact that Santana had told _her_. Sure, they were best friends. Sure, they had basically grown up together. Sure, they loved each other in a way that was similar to sisters but at the same time hilariously different. But they fought. They were mean to each other at times. Like the kind of mean that scares little children and parents and, well, just about everybody. That's how they were. Despite that, though, Santana had told _her_. Santana had trusted _her_.

And Quinn felt like she was flying because of it.

So they had told her mother that they were going shopping and left it at that, continuing their lazy drive in companionable silence. Until Santana reached over and grabbed the wheel, making Quinn pull a U-Turn in the middle of the tiny but deserted road. Quinn instinctively slammed on the brakes, producing a loud squealing that only stopped when Santana's hands pulled away from the wheel and Quinn's hands took back over.

"Do you have a death wish?" Her voice shook a little. She knew she was an overly cautious driver but it was moments like these that really cemented it into her brain.

"You were going the wrong way!"

"The wrong way to where? We don't even know where we were going."

"Yeah, well, I just figured it out. Go this way. Straight, until I say," Santana said, turning her head from the shaken-up blonde to the road in front of her. After a few seconds ticked by and they still hadn't moved, Santana turned back to Quinn, who was just barely hiding her giggles. Her face morphed into one of typical Lopez expectancy and she waited patiently for Quinn to mellow out enough to explain her sudden case of the giggles.

"Straight until you say, huh?" Quinn managed, between giggles. She knew it was dumb of her to find it so funny but she couldn't help it. And neither could Santana, now that she knew the reason. Their laughter meshed together, loud and uncontrollable, in the middle of that silent road. It was a stupid joke but something about the normalcy of it had them holding their stomachs, shaking with laughter.

"Or," Santana paused to laugh again before she continued, "Until that little running girl tells you otherwise."

And, just like that, the thoughts that Quinn had been blissfully free of since she woke up that morning, bubbled to the surface. The thoughts that had filled her mind every single day since the day she ran across the runner, since she met Sam, since her world flipped. With Santana's words, Quinn's mind was filled with images. Images that evoked emotions she couldn't understand. And, like she always did when she couldn't understand something, she pushed them away. Right now, she wanted to spend some time with her best friend, the Clyde to her Bonnie. She didn't want to waste time with useless thoughts on a girl that didn't even know she existed.

"No, baby, you're the only that can curl me." She said with a teasing smile and a playful wink.

* * *

Thirty minutes, a few wrong turns, and a few hilarious renditions of the more annoying songs coming on the radio later, they were pulling into the parking lot of one of the more prestigious performing arts schools in Ohio. The parking lot was packed full of cars of various colors, makes, and models. They all looked newer and very well taken care of. It took awhile for Quinn to find a parking spot, only finding one thanks to Santana's consistent pointing. She slung the car into the spot, making Santana curse as her head hit the window.

"Oh, oops," Quinn said, widening her eyes and blinking them as innocently as she could. Santana rolled her eyes, lifting her middle finger before opening the car door.

"Stay here."

"Where are you going?"

Santana didn't answer her, shutting her door before Quinn was able to blurt out another question. Sighing, Quinn turned her gaze to look out the front window. Santana wouldn't have told her to stay put if it wasn't for an actual reason. Quinn didn't pretend to know Santana's plans and how they would be affected if Quinn went against what Santana had told her to do. Sometimes it was best to listen to Santana, though Quinn couldn't think of any examples of times when it had actually worked out in her favor.

Now that she was alone, without the need to keep up appearances for Santana, she could think about the girl that was still running laps around her mind. Her thoughts and her dreams had been invaded by the running girl. There were dreams of lengthy conversations, tight hugs, and, once, warm lips. There were thoughts of what her name was, what music she liked, and how her voice sounded. Thoughts and dreams that she had never really wasted on a stranger before were all she could think about in regards to the mystery girl.

Maybe it was just a sort of fascination. Maybe it was just because she had seemed so focus, so in-tune, so…centered. It was a kind of calm that Quinn wanted. It was a kind of calm that Quinn had been hunting for so long and to no avail. It was a kind of calm that a head cheerleader, top candidate for Prom Queen, and student destined for Yale couldn't even hope to achieve.

A knock on the window startled her out of her thoughts. Santana opened the door, laughing. "Damn, Q, someone's wound tight." Quinn glared at her, giving herself a minute to regulate her breathing before talking. "I'm sorry, baby. Did I leave you breathless again?" Santana's wink was cut short when she turned to look over her shoulder at something.

"You know it," Quinn rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Now move, so I can get out."

Santana backed up and Quinn was able to, not very gracefully, get out of the car. Her hand instinctively reached behind her to smooth down the back of her dress. Santana walked back towards the back of the car and Quinn turned, making the move to follow her. She stopped at the sight of familiar brown eyes. Boring straight into her, they were exactly as she remembered them. Quinn watched as the girl's eyes flicked from her own to the car and back. That was the motivation she needed to step forward and follow Santana. This girl had already caught her staring once. There was no way she was going to catch her twice.

"Britt, Rachel, this is Quinn." Santana reached back and took hold of Quinn's wrist. Yanking her into the little group they had formed, she rolled her eyes. "Apparently, little miss Head Cheerio is having a shy day."

The blonde that Quinn had failed to notice standing beside Santana waved at Quinn. "Hi! I'm Brittany!" Quinn noticed Santana's approving smile at Brittany's words and wondered what was running through her head. Was this Brittany her girlfriend? Or just another one of her friends? It didn't seem very likely that Santana would go so far out of the way to meet just anyone so this girl had to be important in some way.

"And this is Rachel," Brittany was saying, gesturing towards the girl Quinn was trying her hardest not to look at. "She's an amazing thesbian."

Quinn's eyes widened and she wondered if Brittany was being serious or if it was just some kind of joke. Rachel shook her head, opening and closing her mouth, before the words came to her.

"Brittany, I'm afraid you mean a thespian."

"Same thing."

"No, Brittany, it isn't. There is quite the difference between thesbian and thespian. A thespian is an actor, or if you prefer, actress. A thesbian, on the other hand, is a woman that pretends, for attention's sake, to be a…"

"Rachel. Drop it."

_Rachel_. It was a pretty name. Pretty, simple, and fitting to the girl Quinn was looking at. Her hair was curled, her bangs just a little too long and grazing her eyebrows. Her outfit was something that normally Quinn would mock but opted against it, simply because her bitchy attitude just couldn't apply to this girl. Anyone else would be subject to whatever insults she could fish out of her imagination. This girl, however, was different. Her animal-printed sweater (a horse, or maybe a dolphin) was form-fitting, fitting her perfectly. The skirt she wore was short and paired with matching knee-his. And her shoes…Well, it was best to not even mention them.

She jumped back into the conversation at the end of Rachel and Santana's argument. By the end of it, she was a little upset that she had missed it.

"So, if Brittany told people specific details about your clit instead of the lit notes that were actually relevant to the conversation, you would be completely okay with that and not correct the unfortunate mistake?"

"My clit is far superior to stupid lit anyways. Let's see, private details about the hot Latina," She said, holding up one hand. Lifting the other, she said, "Or Wuthering Heights?" She lifted both hands up and down until Brittany reached over and took the one Santana had deemed private details. She linked their pinkies and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Santana's cheek. Quinn looked away when Brittany started whispering in her ear, seeing Rachel doing the same thing.

"Do they do this often?" Quinn asked, using her eyes to gesture towards the two girls exchanging whispers behind her.

"Quite. It seems to be quite enjoyable, though. After their whisper session, Brittany just smiles for hours. It's a little frightening. Similar to the Cheshire Cat, actually."

"How long have you, well, known them?"

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows together, thinking. "I was first introduced to Brittany in the third grade. We were merely acquaintances at first, but I suppose we've grown closer over the years. Santana, however, I only recently met. I'd say a month or so ago. We're still just acquaintances but I find her increasingly refreshing and so genuine."

"I'm glad you find her so refreshing and genuine. Other, simpler people just call her a bitch and get it over with."

"But I don't believe her to be a bitch. I think she can be sarcastic and can, at times, be a little too honest for most people to tolerate. But I think that everyone can and should use the criticism."

Quinn nodded, a little startled at how Rachel spoke. She was formal, but casual. And while her words held all the wisdom of someone much older than her, the hope in her voice and the way she ran her words together all made her think of a younger child, someone excitable. It was endearing, if not a little intimidating.

Santana spoke then, saving Quinn from having to attempt to find words that could compare to Rachel's.

"Well. Is everybody ready to go?"

Quinn looked over at Santana, confused. But she got no answer, just a slight shrug and a smile. With a roll of her eyes, she turned back to Rachel. "Are you ready?"

Rachel hesitated, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. After a moment, she smiled and nodded. "Yes." Her voice came out as a whisper and Quinn got the impression that she wasn't that familiar with being invited to go places.

Brittany squealed and ran towards the car, pulling Santana in behind her. Quinn and Rachel exchanged a look as the door slammed shut and giggles were heard from the inside of the car.

"You want to sit in the front?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

Brittany and Santana had calmed down as they drove. Now, they were cuddled in the corner of the backseat, looking out the window. Santana's eyelids were dropping and Brittany's face was totally relaxed. It was quiet and Quinn felt a little awkward in the silence. Every move that she made produced a noise that almost seemed to echo in the car. Rachel sat beside her, her elbow propped up against the door and her fist supporting her head. It was her that had given Quinn the directions for wherever they were headed. When Quinn had asked Santana and Brittany, she had gotten nothing more than a wild list of possible destinations that Quinn cringed at. Rachel, on the other hand, had told her to head downtown. While it wasn't the most specific set of directions Quinn had ever been given, it was much better than the options of Chuck-E-Cheese and a strip club.

"You could always tell me where we're going, you know."

"Yes. But it's more amusing like this."

"Amusing?"

"Very."

Quinn groaned and looked back at the road. "If we have to reenact Driving Miss Daisy for these two again, I'm going to get you back."

"I guess I'll be sure not to find myself back in this situation."

Quinn laughed softly, glancing in the rearview mirror at her other passengers. Santana was asleep with her head leaning against the window and her mouth just barely open. Brittany had her head tilted back, looking up at the snoozing face. Quinn watched as a smile broke out across Brittany's face and she snuggled back into Santana's side.

"They're adorable." Rachel's voice captured Quinn's attention and made her break her gaze away from the girls in the back.

"Yeah, they are" Quinn said, meeting Rachel's eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the road. Because she didn't know where she was going, she felt the need to be even more alert. Normally, she was a fairly relaxed driver. She knew she was a good driver, knew that she had quick reflexes, and knew that, even if she did wreck, it would be primarily her injured. But now there were three other people in her car, a girl who refused to tell her where they were going in any way besides turn by turn, and her confidence in her driving ability was starting to wane. Probably because this was the second time she hadn't been told where they were going, but how to get there.

She squeezed the wheel tighter; forcing her mind to stay focused and quit straying to the girl sitting beside her. A week ago, Rachel was just an anonymous jogger that Quinn, for some reason, couldn't get out of her mouth. Now, Rachel was sitting beside her, leading her to some unknown destination. Funny how things happen, she thought as Rachel fidgeted in her seat. Her arm rose and she pointed to an upcoming road on the left. "This is our turn. It should be a road called New Brook. Then you'll take the next two rights. That should ensure we get there in the safest and quickest way possible."

Quinn nodded, stifling a giggle at the brunette's tone. "So, question," She said, flicking her turn signal on and slowing just a little for a smooth turn. She waited until her turn was complete to turn towards Rachel's waiting eyes. "Do you ever loosen up?"

Rachel's eyes lingered on her before redirecting her eyes out the window. She cleared her throat and Quinn wondered if she had overstepped herself with her question. There was no reason for her to think they were anywhere near enough for such a personal question.

"I do. But I have a plan. And being as outgoing as many of my peers is not a part of the plan," Her voice dropped and Quinn almost missed what she said next. "I have to stand out somehow."

Quinn just nodded to acknowledge her words, keeping her eyes on the road and preparing for the right turn she saw just ahead. She was about to completely zone out when Rachel spoke again.

"Do you always stare at joggers?"

The question wasn't particularly malicious but Quinn's stomach tensed. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Normally, she'd fall back into the familiar Head Bitch role. She'd scheme and plot and twist the situation around to benefit her. But this was away from school and away from the people that saw her as some type of hipster Barbie. And this was someone that she, for some inexplicable reason, wanted to impress. She couldn't just twist Rachel's arm like she had been able to do with people before.

She cleared her throat and chuckled. "No, not really. I, um, was hoping you didn't remember. It's just that you run almost perfectly."

"Almost? What is keeping me from being completely perfect?"

"Your lack of confidence," Quinn said past the lump growing in her throat. She was sure Rachel hadn't meant for there to be any kind of double meaning behind her words but Quinn had made one and, though she knew Rachel couldn't read her mind, she was mortified because of it. "Most people think their self-esteem doesn't matter when they work-out. It does. It changes a lot of thing, the most important being your posture. It's barely noticeable but it can affect you in the long run. You need to work on your confidence."

Quinn glanced at Rachel as she took the next and final turn. She was quiet, looking out the window, as still as Quinn thought she could be. As she found herself doing quite often with Rachel, she wondered what was going through her head. And, as she found herself figuring out over and over again with Rachel, she was practically unreadable. She turned back towards the road and they rode in silence, Rachel looking out the window and Quinn trying not to look at her. It was hard to make Quinn feel awkward or uncomfortable but Rachel could win an award in it.

"You need to pull in here."

**AN: Yeah, so, I'll probably re-upload this later. But I feel bad for taking sosososo long to post anything else again. So...where do you think Rachel would have/should have taken them? I'm willing to take any ideas into consideration.(:**


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